Santa, I
by TigressDreamer
Summary: Marianne learns things about two important people in her life during the Christmas season. (Set two-ish months after Sisters Are... Rated to be safe for childhood sensitivities.)
1. Bog

**Disclaimer for the entire story: Sadly, I do not own Strange Magic, although I do have the DVD that I play once a week. (To which I discovered that Sunny appears to have some pretty big biceps, giving him the very real possibility of being stronger than Roland. I approve and support this headcanon.)**

**Apparently, I'll be continuing this little storyverse ever so often because Sunshine is just too cute not to have more involving her. This was supposed to have been done before Christmas but that didn't happen. Saw something on my mom's Facebook, something that should be obvious once you've read the first chapter, and I had planned on making a separate story based on something like that but the bunnies said that it worked perfectly with Sunshine, so here it is. Constructive advice is appreciated but please refrain from criticism. Enjoy!**

**(Slight edit as of October 17, 2020)**

* * *

**Chapter 1/Bog**

Marianne holds her breath as she tiptoes as fast and silently as she can down the hallway. Of course the office door would be open today of all days!

But no matter. She has a mission to fulfill and there is no way she is letting her exceptionally well-hearing boyfriend discover her presence before she has fulfilled it.

The door to the upstairs apartment opens silently and she breathes a sigh of relief before freezing in fear, looking apprehensively toward the open doorway. She can barely hear Bog's mumbled complaints as he works on the gym's paperwork but that's not what catches her attention. Instead, her eyes focus on the small figure positioned farther down the hallway looking curiously at her as he walks toward the Dark Forest Gym's office.

Amber eyes narrow to a glare and Marianne holds her index finger against her lips before slashing the same finger slowly across her throat in an obvious threat. Only the risk of exposing herself keeps her from cackling in glee as Felix nearly runs back down the hallway with his cargo of papers clutched in a death grip.

Ascending the stairs presents a new challenge as Marianne precariously tiptoes on the side of the steps to avoid causing a board to squeak. Any noise here will almost immediately draw Bog's attention from his work.

"Victory!" Marianne sighs happily as she emerges onto the second floor.

"I was beginning to get worried that you wouldn't be able to make it," Griselda comments, looking up from the large bowl she's stirring.

"Had a few close calls," Marianne admits. "Bog has the window blinds open, so taking the outside entrance would have been impossible to do without him seeing me and he even has the door open."

"He usually keeps both closed during paperwork days. I think he's hoping you'll be coming by and wants to make sure he doesn't miss you," Griselda giggles.

Marianne ignores the elderly woman's moving eyebrows and washes her hands before grabbing the apron hanging nearby. The pumpkin-colored material is clearly Bog's own, as she's dwarfed by the large fabric, but a bit of tightening fixes the looseness and she sets to work stirring one of the waiting cookie batters.

"How many cookies are you planning on making?" Marianne asks.

"Let's see, gingerbread, thumbprint, chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, orange drop, snickerdoodle, shortbread, gingersnap, peanut butter, and maple-flavored sugar cookies to start with," Griselda answers.

"Wow! No wonder you asked for my help," Marianne comments. "But why isn't Bog up here?"

"Like I'd have enough cookies to give away if he was helping me! When Bog was four, I turned my attention away from the freshly baked cookies for two seconds and six cookies were gone when I turned back. He's a bottomless stomach when it comes to sweets. Refuses to admit it, too," Griselda grumbles.

Marianne can't stop the laughter bubbling out as she imagines the younger Bog pretending innocence at the pilfered cookies. It's not hard to imagine since Griselda had eagerly shown her every single picture she had of Bog during her first dinner with them. The elder woman is surprisingly agile despite her age and had avoided her son's attempts at keeping her from revealing his baby pictures.

The hours pass swiftly as the two women mix, stir, roll, cut, and bake the morning away. Nibbling on a piece of lettuce as she waits for Griselda's return with the ingredients to start dinner, Marianne ponders on what the older woman had revealed about Bog while they were icing the sugar cookies. It's very curious.

Not as curious as the footsteps she can hear approaching, though. Seems Griselda was right, Bog must have been keeping an eye on the window, and now that he thinks the coast is clear, he plans to make some of their hard work disappear.

"Marianne!" Bog murmurs happily as he walks into the kitchen. "I didn't know ye were here!"

"That was kind of the point," Marianne chuckles before waving a large wooden spoon threateningly. "I warn you, greedy goblin, that the baking queen has left me to guard her treasure while she quests to retrieve the coveted stew meat and I will show no mercy."

"Oh, so the little fairy thinks she's a match for me, does she? Be warned, little one, I am no ordinary goblin, I am the goblin king! Both ye and the baking queen's treasures will be mine!" Bog growls playfully, grabbing another large wooden spoon.

Marianne laughs as their spoon-sword battle causes them to dance around the kitchen, laughing harder when Bog snatches one of the cookies off the table before yelling in frustration as he notices what he grabbed.

Griselda was right again! The only cookie Bog won't eat.

"I hate Santa Claus!" Bog growls, pouting further as he notices every cookie on the table is decorated as Santa Claus.

"That's what your mother said," Marianne comments, wiping away the mirthful tears.

"It's not funny, Marianne," he grumbles.

"It is funny that you won't eat any of those cookies all because they have Santa on them. Admit it, you'd be laughing too if this happened to anyone else," she chuckles.

"I hate Santa Claus!" Bog repeats.

"But why? Griselda said you loved Santa until the year you turned seven. Did Santa give you the wrong present or something?" Marianne questions.

"Not quite. It's...well, it's...," he mutters before sighing. "It's nothing."

"If it bothers you so much that it's still bothering you this many years later, it's not nothing," she counters, pulling him down to kiss him.

"This. This is why I hate Santa," Bog states, pulling away from Marianne.

"A little more explanation would be helpful, Bog," Marianne comments. "Come on, you can tell me. What did Santa do that made you hate him so much that you won't even eat a cookie decorated as him?"

"It was the Christmas after I turned six. I had decided to stay up all night long and see Santa Claus. Not to be naughty or anything!" he hastily defends. "I just wanted to tell Santa what I really truly wanted for Christmas. I didn't want Mom to know about it because it was just as much a Christmas present for her as it was for me, so I decided to tell Santa in person since I was just learning to write. It was past my bedtime when I heard the noise, so I snuck to the living room and saw Santa putting lots of presents under the tree, a lot more than he usually left me, so I had felt really bad that I was doing something so naughty but I figured he would forgive me when I explained and even if I did have less presents the next year, it would be worth it."

"Did you talk to Santa Claus?" she asks.

"No, Mom came out of the kitchen before I revealed myself," Bog answers. "I figured that there went my chance of talking to Santa without getting in trouble with both of them, so I was going to head back to bed but before I could...oh, Marianne, it was horrible!"

"What? What happened?" Marianne prods.

"Santa started kissing Mom!" he yells with anguish as he relives his childhood horror. "And it wasn't some friendly peck either!"

Marianne bites her lip hard in an attempt to stop her laughter but it's hopeless as she looks up to the traumatized man in front of her. Of all the answers she was expecting, that is not it and no amount of guilty feelings at seeing tears form in her boyfriend's blue eyes can keep her from seeing the humor.

"Marianne, it's not funny!" Bog whines. "I saw Santa kissing Mom and if that wasn't bad enough, they...they...they...I ran back to bed and cried myself to sleep!"

"Bog, sweetie, it's okay," Marianne coaxes, hugging her sniffling boyfriend. "That was your dad."

"My dad isn't Santa," he scoffs.

"No, I mean, that was your dad dressed up as Santa," she corrects.

"That was the Christmas before Dad came, Marianne. That was my Christmas wish, after all, for Dad to...holy cow, ye don't think Santa knew what I wanted and Mom had to...!" Bog starts before a hand covers his mouth.

"If you finish that sentence, I'm telling your mother that you think she's a floozy," Marianne threatens, smirking at the shudder resonating through Bog. "Now let me explain. Griselda told me about the Christmas you're talking about while we were baking, including the part of your dad showing up dressed in a Santa Claus suit with presents."

"Wait, what?" Bog mutters. "If he was there, then why didn't he stay and why did he wait for three months until he came back?"

"You should probably talk to your mother about that but the gist of what she told me was that your dad was worried your mom wouldn't be happy to see him, or of you seeing him, so he borrowed a Santa suit so there would be less of a problem. Same with the presents from him being marked as from Santa, so you'd still get the presents without there being a worry if your mother didn't want him to stay in your life," she continues.

"The majority of the presents marked from Santa were wrapped oddly, really sloppy-like, unlike the others, which were very neat like every year," he muses. "Oh!"

"Bog, where you going? Don't you want any lunch?" Marianne questions as he leaves her embrace.

Marianne giggles as her thirty-five-year-old boyfriend answers her as he heads down the steps back to his office. There's just something so cute and endearing about the surly owner of the toughest gym in the state writing a letter to Santa Claus just to say, "Santa, I'm sorry."

**Tea Blend.**


	2. Sunshine

**Chapter 2/Sunshine**

"You will return my daughter at the food court in two hours. That should leave me and Sunny plenty of time to buy her presents and get them wrapped. You better behave this time and not corrupt her or I'm never letting you babysit again!" Dawn warns quietly before walking away from the mall's entrance.

Marianne shakes her head, more in amusement than irritation as she tries not to laugh. Dawn just can't stop harping over that little incident that happened two months ago. So Sunshine caused a few embarrassing moments because of something that was connected to her but that doesn't mean that it's Marianne's fault for it happening. Good luck convincing Dawn that.

In her opinion, Marianne figures that it's karma for all the embarrassment her little sister caused her throughout all the years.

"Why am I here again?" Bog grumbles as Marianne pulls him to follow the hyper five-year-old toward the dollar item shop.

"Because your mother wants you out of the apartment while she's baking," Marianne answers.

"I could have stayed in the gym, like I do every year," Bog comments.

"If I have to suffer through all the holiday horror that is called Christmas shopping then so do you," Marianne remarks. "Besides, this will make it a lot easier for Sunshine to buy my Christmas present without me seeing it...which she complained about last year and the year before that."

"That's because you're not suppose to peek, Auntie Mari," Sunshine pipes up.

"It would be a lot easier if yer crazy sister didn't wait until two days before Christmas to go shopping," Bog mutters, cringing at the loud children gathered farther down the mall.

"When you were a kid, did you ever look for the hiding Christmas presents your parents bought for you and then opened them when you found them?" Marianne asks, snickering at the bright red blush adorning her boyfriend's face. "Well, when Sunshine was two and before it was even December, she found and opened every single present Dawn and Sunny had bought and wrapped. So they came up with the idea that if they waited until it was closer to Christmas then Sunshine won't have enough time to search for them and even if she finds them, it's at least Christmastime."

"Naughty girl!" Bog teases, tugging on the pompom hat covering Sunshine's blonde curls.

"I'm not naughty!" Sunshine giggles, smiling brightly. "The presents belong to me, so it's not naughty if I open them."

"I guess that means that if the present belongs to me then I should be allowed to peek," Marianne argues playfully.

"That's different," Sunshine huffs. "Presents have to be wrapped first. Mommy said so."

Marianne exchanges an amused look with Bog before obediently following the child's tugging into the store. It doesn't take long for Sunshine to find each item she wants to purchase as Christmas presents and Marianne tries not to laugh at the absurdity of the picture as the rough-and-tough-looking Bog is dragged down a separate aisle by a cheerful cherub barely half his height.

"No peeking, Auntie Mari!" Sunshine warns.

Dutifully obeying the order, Marianne heads to the checkout lane and pays for the other items before waiting outside. A quick check by text gives the all-clear from Dawn and the trio head to the gift wrapping stand once the last item is paid for, where another warning is given as the presents are wrapped under Sunshine's careful supervision.

"Any hints?" Marianne questions softly.

"I'm under oath not to say a word," Bog murmurs back. "Although, I did tell her that a baby doll might not be the best gift for ye."

"Dawn did the same thing when she was younger, buying the things that she wanted and gifting it to where it'd come back to her," Marianne snickers before quieting as Sunshine turns her attention back to them.

"Auntie Mari, how much time do we have left before we meet Mommy and Daddy?" Sunshine asks.

"About half an hour," Marianne answers, grabbing the wrapped presents with Bog. "Why?"

"Can we visit Santa? I forgot to put something in my letter and it's too late to send another," Sunshine explains.

"Sure, I think Santa's Village is still open. Let's head that way and I'll text your parents to tell them where we are so they can meet us there instead," Marianne comments.

"Thank You, Auntie Mari!" Sunshine cheers, tugging Marianne's free hand towards the mall's center.

"Looks like nearly every kid in the city forgot to tell Santa something," Bog groans as they approach the packed area. "This is going to take a while."

"No kidding. We better get in line now or we'll starve before Sunshine is done," Marianne quips.

"I can go by myself!" Sunshine announces.

"Sunshine," Marianne starts.

"I'm five and I can stand in line by myself," Sunshine states proudly, placing her hands on her hip.

"Oh, they grow up so fast! You're supposed to stay cute, not stubborn!" Marianne groans.

"Wait until it's yer own kid," Bog chuckles before pointing to the nearby benches. "We can sit over there. It has a clear view of Santa's Village, so there won't be anything to worry about."

Neither adult notices Sunshine's scrunched up nose as she taps her pursed lips with an index finger before she nodding to herself in determination, her blue eyes shining brightly with purpose. Neither adult pays much mind as the angelic five-year-old takes her turn to talk to the man in red. Only when the usually-cheerful cherub's face shows distress does the pair pause in their conversation.

"But I've been really good this year!" Sunshine pleads loudly, tears filling her blue eyes as her voice carries across the large area. "Please, Santa, I want Mommy and Daddy to have a baby just like Auntie Mari and Uncle Boggy!"

Marianne turns to the equally shocked Bog but before anything can be said, a flying blur of colors slam into her and traps her in her little sister's tight embrace.

"Oh my god, Marianne! Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?!" Dawn squeals loudly.

Marianne can just feel the heat emanating off of Bog's red face, a clear match for her own as every single person in the vicinity turns their attention to them, some with very familiar faces. She should've known. Like mother, like daughter.

**Tea Blend.**

**To clarify, Sunshine is under the impression that 'Auntie Mari' is pregnant because of what Roland explained in Sisters are... and not because she overheard something. In her mind, Bog's remark only confirms it.**


End file.
